


we could live forever tonight

by SNES



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Drabble, End of the World, M/M, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Pre-Apocalypse, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21935188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNES/pseuds/SNES
Summary: On the night before the 1st of January, Jeno— and, apparently, the rest of humanity—thinks that the universe as they know it is done for. To make amends with fate and his undying idealisms of romance on their last living day on Earth, Jaemin decides to entertain him.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	we could live forever tonight

**Author's Note:**

> y'all remember when the mayans predicted that the world was gonna end in december 2012, and then it didnt?? idk why i did but i did lmao. being reminded of that while also listening to the smiths and julia brown made me want to try my hands on semi-morbid fluff and humor, and this is somehow the product of that. :3 enjoy.

Jaemin wakes up at 3:19 in the afternoon-- not unusual, or even alarming to know that he'd spent a good chunk of his day drooling onto his pillows, unconscious-- except today was different, in the extensive sense that today was the day before New Year's-- and was also probably his last day on Earth.

That's what it says on the news, on TV: **_PROPHETS SAY WORLD ENDS TOMORROW, EXPERTS SAY THEY'RE PROBABLY RIGHT_ ** \-- and even on the radio, everyone apparently jazzed about their last few hours alive, sharing their stories about all their other _lasts_ \-- their last meals for breakfast, their last playlist's songs, their last messages to their loved ones, which consists of nothing else but gibberish and ugly sobbing. Downstairs, the smell of freshly-baked cookies from the kitchen fills his sinuses, distracts him-- and yet he saunters to the living room, turns both the television and radio off in lieu of getting pissed, which ends up pissing both of his parents in return.

Before they can even say anything about _how, with all due respect, it was the end of the world and you should try to be responsive at least once in your life,_ Jaemin makes a run for the stairs, sprinting back up to his bedroom to slam the door shut. He wouldn't manage not being able to tell them that, from the looks of it, the universe was over. And it was damning to realize that because it was also New Year's they had to act like that somehow still called for a celebration.

He unplugs his phone from where it'd been charging on his nightstand, thinking he could check if any ridiculous mid-end-of-the-world tweets were trending, but his eyes blow impossibly wide at the amount of texts Jeno _alone_ had sent him for the past few hours (35 and, apparently, counting). There's more notifications popping up every passing second, from Hyuck, Renjun, Mark, even-- so he decides to open their group chat first, scrolling up until he finds the beginning of the conversation, where Hyuck had just sent their group chat a text about-- of course-- the apocalypse, online article links and headlines and screenshots and all, and Jeno-- however soon or early in the afternoon it was for him to be-- was probably boozed enough to believe it was true.

 _Wait I didn't know abt this_ was the last text Jeno had sent to their group chat, from two hours ago. There's a response from Hyuck, saying, _now you do bitch xoxo,_ followed by a text from Renjun that says, _IT'S NOT REAL DUMBASS!!_ but Jeno hasn't gone back online to see it yet.

Well, fuck.

So now Jeno was freaking out, however unusual that was of him, and had guided Jaemin through his untimely existential crisis through a series of messages that mostly consists of inebriated keysmashing (which was even more unusual). And Jaemin, having just found the energy to leave his bed, didn't have the wherewithal to deal with having to scroll through several drunk texts from Jeno, ones that said _heyi bought last min tickets 4 this gam e_ and _i wan a dog jaemin PLEASE tell me we can buy dog and and u can name it???_ The last text, sent thirty minutes ago, seemed to be-- at the very least-- readable, but the context was dawning, cryptic: _I just wanted to remind u it's judgment day tomorrow, so like, questions of the day: how do u wanna spend ur last day alive?? do u think u go to heaven or hell?_ And Jaemin, as a firm non-believer of online hoaxes, or even the impending apocalypse, was pretty sure he didn't give a shit about that.

Either way, the possibility that the world was over ends up boggling him, and in his haze he finds himself suddenly plopping back down on his bed in exhilaration, his mind in a shuffle.

God, there's so much he hasn't done-- a fine jumble of things that matter and things that don't. One of those things happened to be admitting he had a crush on Jeno, which was going just fucking great for him; even if he loved Jeno, and even if he said as much today, Jeno would be like, _alright, I don't want to be the one to remind you that I don't care, so leave it to my obliviousness and my false priorities to make you feel like shit while I drag you around to run my apocalypse-related errands with me._ Clearly, Jeno had other plans, and they'd managed to matter more to him than having to deal with Jaemin's broken heart. And then, because he wanted to be as good of a friend as he can be, Jaemin has to act like that's the only way it could've gone, or like it didn't hurt.

Resting on his bed, the only response he manages to send to Jeno is _where are you???_ before clicking his phone off quickly, but not even halfway until it starts vibrating in his hands like crazy.

Jeno sends a reply, suddenly sober again, not even a blink of an eye later, saying, _i'll tell, but u have to come with me._

After typing out a quick _okay_ , Jaemin looks around and sighs-- wishing it could all just end then.

***

An hour later, he shows up in the parking lot of their town's _SUPER8_ grocery warehouse, and he winces back, re-gathers his bearings after spotting the ten-year old Camry Jeno owns and still shares with his mother after he got his license last year. Jeno emerges from where he'd been sitting on the concrete, eyes half-lidded, truly looking like he was in the flush of his youth as he held a can of Pringles in one hand and a cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream on the other.

He walks over, leans in to hug Jaemin, and all of a sudden starts pushing him hastily into the car; he smells like he'd just doused himself in several bottles of cheap cologne, and faintly like an afternoon's whole worth of couch-dwindling beer and sweat.

Jeno slams the door shut and makes a turn for his side of the car, managing a grin when he realizes Jaemin was glaring at him from the windshield. He plops down the driver's seat with a huff that's cut too short, his hands tossing the empty ice cream cup out the window, dropping the can of Pringles and landing snug on the curves of the steering wheel.

"So," Jeno gulps nervously. "Here's the plan." He says, like he hadn't just drunk-texted Jaemin about it forty-five minutes ago.

"Jeno, first of all--" Jaemin barely gets a word out before Jeno shushes him, his palms flattened out against Jaemin's lips in alarm.

"I only had a few drinks, I swear." He says, but more to himself. "My little cousin wanted to play _Minecraft_ the whole day and I couldn't run on sheer willpower alone."

"Your texts beg to differ," Jaemin shoves Jeno's arm away, glares. " _What,_ did you need some god damn liquid courage to slay a fucking creeper?"

"No," Jeno shakes his head, leaning back and buckling his seatbelt tight. "Mostly I needed it because the world is going to end tomorrow."

Jaemin stares for a moment before he turns away, scoffs mockingly. "You don't actually believe that."

"Yeah, I don't," he shrugs, his fingers toying with the keychains dangling off his car keys. "But if it ends up being true I don't want to be spending my last day on Earth making cottages and hoarding villager chests in Minecraft for my fucking cousin."

"Jeno, you're spending your supposedly last day on Earth wearing _Crocs_." He raises an eyebrow, peeks down pointedly. "It's basically the same thing."

"That's a bitchy thing to say, but also, it doesn't matter." Jeno says, like he'd nonetheless meant to add in, _how dare you say that about my dark blue Crocs._ "I could be swiveling my car through a _Burger King_ drive-thru buck naked right now, or watching baseball in a stadium and eating pretzel bits off the floor, or kissing the shit out of you-- see, I could do anything. It's the end of the world, there's nothing left to lose."

Jaemin's mind lags for a moment, stuck on the words _I could be kissing the shit out of you,_ because he sure as hell could and, gladly, Jaemin would let him-- except it's never going to happen. Even if the universe blasted into bits or caved in on itself once the clock strikes midnight, or even if such a thing was set to happen two seconds from now, Jeno still wouldn't kiss him; that would be a flaw in the system of their little childhood-best-friend program. Jaemin wanting to kiss Jeno was just part of his doomed existence, but Jeno _actually_ kissing Jaemin was as good as the world ending. He knew that well enough, knew that if he tried, and succeeded, and had to deal with Jeno pushing him back, his fists raised while he starts screaming at him-- _Why the fuck did you do that? Why the fuck would you do that?!_ \-- his world and his heart would crumble either way.

"Fuck, you know what," Jeno sighs when Jaemin doesn't say anything back, and pats Jaemin's shoulder in suspicion. "If you want to dip, it's fine."

"I don't--" Jaemin hitches, because he obviously didn't want to wuss out on a perfectly good plan. "Maybe I just don't like how you're taking this so seriously."

"How serious would I have to be for you to realize I'm actually not?" He scoffs. "Someone's probably out there getting wasted in a rented yacht right now, or robbing a bank and splurging the milk money on whatever-- and all I'm doing is taking my bestfriend to watch a live basketball game with me."

"Yeah, in a venue that's probably two hours away." Jeno turns to him to throw back a retort, but he ends up dead silent. Jaemin sneers at him. "See? No one's as freaked out about this as you are."

"I know-- you know what? I fucking know." He reasons out, aggravated. "But suppose it _was_ our last day on Earth tonight. And suppose we should at least end it on a good note, like it's any other New Year's celebration, 'cause we'll probably be dead by tomorrow. You'll hate me if I didn't do anything about that."

"Well, surprise, Jeno," Jaemin flips his hands up, making jazzy gestures to assert his point. "I wouldn't ever hate you."

"Good." Jeno says before finally starting the car. He maneuvers the car safely out of the vastness of the parking lot, right before he speaks again-- his voice ringing in Jaemin's ears. "That's all I need to know."

Jaemin blushes, but turns away before Jeno can gut him out for it. Of course, he had to lose his grip on his emotions now of all times, and for all he knew his emotions were one hell of a sick fucker.

He feels hot in a way that's self-induced, like soon enough he'll melt into goo and stick onto the leather of the passenger seat from how queasy he'd been feeling for the whole ride-- and it hasn't even been past three minutes. Everything Jeno had been doing-- from the way he was holding the steering wheel with a single hand while the other leaned against the open car window, the wind sweeping his hair back as he drives through the sun-bathed freeway-- skyrockets Jaemin's trainwreck of a manic pixie dream daze into a ridiculous full force.

Thankfully, Jeno is too immersed in singing along to random tracks from anonymous people's near-death playlists being broadcasted on the radio to notice Jaemin's been sending him heart eyes every now and then. In a similar, unthankful fashion, though, Jaemin finds even the mere act of that attractive, for some reason.

He stares at Jeno's lips, guiltily; wondering how it might be like to kiss Jeno, and if he tastes more like salty Pringles or mint chocolate chip, or both. If he decides to finally close the heavy distance between them tonight, he'll blame it on the spontaneity, but mostly it's the fear. True or not, it was the end of the world, after all-- he had nothing left to lose-- just Jeno.

***

The bleachers were packed by the time they got there, but Jeno managed to find a good spot even when the game had already started. While Jeno was trying as much as he could to feel at home, Jaemin was frazzled, knowing he'd set himself up for half an hour of endless basketball commentary with nothing else but a large cup of coke and a stick of bland corndog to keep him entertained. Obviously he didn't enjoy this as much as Jeno did, which is why it didn't surprise him how Jeno practically had a focused death glare on the court two seconds in-- like he was formulating strategies for a game he wasn't even nearly a part of.

Although Jaemin couldn't do much or will himself to focus, Jeno held his hands in his own all throughout the game, as if out of habit, occasionally tracing Jaemin's knuckles with the rough skin of his thumbs while his eyes shift to follow the quick movements in front of them. This was enough to distract him somehow through the first and second quarter, until somewhere in the middle of the third quarter, where the feeling of Jeno's calloused hands in his own was the only thing he could manage to think of.

Seven minutes into the final quarter of the game, he stares mindlessly at Jeno while he engages in small talk with the lady sitting beside him. His hands wiggle along as he beams in amusement, and Jaemin thinks, _what a dork._ Somewhere in the middle of that realization, he also thinks, _fuck, you're going to kiss this dork tonight._

He could try. But, odds are Jeno's going to push him away, or act like it's a joke Jaemin's playing to get himself filmed for that stupid live kiss cam, or something. In all versions of Jaemin's kissing-Jeno fantasies, it never goes his way. Reality wouldn't veer any better, but now he didn't care-- because if the world explodes it was the only thing he's sure he was going to regret. He might as well regret it if he knows he's going to be dead the next day.

Minutes pass by quicker in Jaemin's daze, his mind fluctuating between thoughts of kissing Jeno, being afraid he'll never get away with it, and being afraid he will. Jeno doesn't question him about his sudden internal crisis, but Jaemin knows he feels it even when he seemed like he was incapable of giving a shit about anything else but balls and hoops and sweaty basketball jerseys. Four seconds left in the game and Jaemin steels himself, waits. Two seconds, he musters his courage, swallows down a wave of non-existent spit and licks his bottom lip intently. The game screen ticks _one_ in red numbers, and he doesn't waste even the milliseconds as he turns to Jeno, takes a whiff, leans impossibly close-- but his time narrows down to _zero,_ which is when the buzzer beats, and the people start shouting and the rest of the world is in a timelapse -- and Jeno turns away.

Several people from the bleachers have thrown their hands into the air, cheering in glee as the adrenaline of shared victory coarses through their systems, and then after a few seconds the rest of the people who haven't done so stood up as well, shouting along in the same fashion. The team Jeno was rooting for didn't win, but he pounced from his seat just as enthusiastically, dragged Jaemin up, jumped around with one of his hands in Jaemin's waist and the other fisted in the air along with the rest of the crowd like he didn't really care.

In the midst of their rejoice, Jeno turns again to the girl on his other side, exasperatedly shouts out, "I love everyone in this stadium right now," and side-hugs her while laughing. They greet each other a happy new year before the girl turns back to greet somebody else. Jeno is quick to do the same, poking at the man sitting above him and greeting him childishly, and then swiveling around to grin at the kid who's grabbed the fabric around his ankles from below him. He doesn't let go of Jaemin.

It seemed almost idealistic, but Jaemin felt like he was stuck in time-- immortalized by a massive memory bubble where there was nothing else but happiness, and the smell of nachos and hotdogs from indoor concession stands, and the comforting feeling of Jeno's hands around his waist. Aside from the cruel reality that Jaemin's lips aren't pressed against Jeno's in that moment, everything else is so right, so where it's meant to be.

A loud voice suddenly booms from the intercom, saying, _"Here's to welcoming the new year!"_ To which everyone responds with an overly-enthusiastic hooray, hugging random people from wherever they could in the cramped bleachers. However melodramatic it was for all of these people to be acting like tonight was their last night on Earth (Oh, right-- it _was_ ), Jaemin grabs the chance and holds anyone who tried to take it from him at a figurative gunpoint, circling his hands around Jeno's neck and going in for the hug, which lasted about five seconds in reality but countless hours in _Jaeminland._

When Jeno pulls back, he stares at the wide screen in front of them, filming the audience and even the players, who've also resorted to some form of friendly hugging, arms looped over arms as they face the crowd from all angles. Jaemin smiles, looks at Jeno again, because all of this was so unbelievable. He couldn't have been mistaken when he heard the spectator speak through the mic, solemnly, "Happy last day on Earth, everyone." And, even though he wasn't looking at him anymore, he couldn't have been mistaken when he felt Jeno flinch and squeeze his shaky hands tighter, like that made him transparent, vulnerable, for some reason.

"That's so--" Jaemin chokes, finding something funny. " _Happy_ what now?"

"Let's head out, yeah? It's so late." Jeno says, not sparing Jaemin a look. He's got that certain tone in his voice-- the kind that sounds like he's stuck somewhere, but he doesn't want Jaemin to know or find out. Jaemin knows it so well that it scares him more than the fact that Jeno could possibly hide something from him.

Jeno clasps at the sleeves of his own jacket on their way out of the venue, pulling it off and placing it snug against Jaemin's shoulders. When Jaemin looks at him, Jeno smiles, puppy eyes and all, and directs his face down to where the jacket was hanging from.

"Thought you might be cold." He says, helping Jaemin surrenderingly pull the sleeves on, even though they're longer by some considerable margin. He holds a protective arm over Jaemin's nape as they continue to walk to the busy mass of the parking lot, looking left and right and forward in search for his ugly Camry. He looked kind of--

" _Hot,"_ Jaemin blurts out, and scrambles to continue in humiliating realization. "I meant-- I'm warm-- I don't--"

"Shut up. You look cute in it, sweater paws," Jeno grins. And God, Jaemin is so done for.

***

Thirty miles out of their hometown, he starts to feel the soda pop feeling fizzle low in his own stomach, making him queasy but, even more so, anxious. Jeno cranks the volume loud and clicks the windows wide open, the wind brutal against their exposed faces. Jeno's mouth hangs open in a sort of crooked smile that ends up being nothing short of perfect, anyway, and he seemed almost ethereal every time the ugly white street lights capture the angles of his face sharply. Although it was childish, Jaemin teeters around his own amusement and his own refusal to let loose, when in comparison Jeno's as carefree as he had been in probably all the years of his life, bopping his head to the fast beat of some indie song's last tunes.

"You can't be _that_ happy about the fact that you're probably going to, like, die tomorrow," Jaemin ends up sputtering, crudely burrying himself in the collar of Jeno's jacket when Jeno stares back at him, as if in offense.

"It's not that--" he says, raising his brows. "It's just the music. Solid shit. I can have fun before I die, you know."

He bites his lips. "Right. Then I must be such a killjoy."

"You are," Jeno rolls his eyes playfully, and then chuckles when the opening lines to _There is a Light that Never Goes Out_ booms on the radio. "As an apology, you can sing along with me on this one."

" _The Smiths_ ," he rolls his eyes then, too. "How fitting."

"You know the words." Jeno turns to face him, his gaze almost encapsulating. "Just sing."

Jeno drums his hands on the steering wheel to the beat, winking at Jaemin while he sings along to the first line in an exaggerated fashion, making Jaemin laugh out loud. Jaemin belts out the same lyrics with excitement, creating a makeshift microphone with the hairbrush he found on the dashboard cabinet.

The song carries them through the vastness of the highway, adrenaline abundant, chasing and trailing after them like they were kids in a car chase. It does feel like that-- except, in their case, they didn't know why they were speeding off, didn't know who they were running away from but the feeling that it was all going to end too soon.

 _"And if a double-decker bus crashes into us--"_ Jaemin looks at Jeno, shouting over the lyrics blasting off the radio the same time Jeno looks at him and does the same. He had stars in his eyes, brighter than the moon. _"To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die."_

Time stops, and Jaemin's eyes widen. He doesn't feel like he was the only one between the two of them who felt so. It was confusing, but he couldn't stop looking at Jeno like he knew something had to happen, like he knew Jeno knew, but only to some extent. He stares long enough, hoping-- wishing he could keep Jeno roped in with that look on his face alone, but Jeno resists, clicking his tongue and facing away, far from the dread of Jaemin's gaze.

"Jeno," Jaemin croaks, holding his arm out to place his hand on Jeno's shoulder. Jeno nudges it away, eyes on the road.

"I should stop for some gas." Jeno says, indifferently. Jaemin is suddenly dumbstruck, like he's been tackled into a daze and thrusted out in a span of milliseconds, and as much as he didn't want to be angered by this, he still was.

When Jeno swerves his car into some secluded gas station out in the empty highway, nothing but flat asphalt ahead of them, Jaemin holds his breath and says, "I should go pee."

"What?" Jeno squints, confused. "You-- oh, okay. Yeah, you should-- yeah. Go do that."

"I should." Jaemin pauses.

"Yeah, I'll just--" he steps out of the car hastily. "I'll just fill up the tank while you go."

"Whatever," he says, wanting it to be defensive. He nudges the car door open and sprints for the comfort room, the collar of Jeno's jacket sagging down his arms with each step.

Jaemin locks himself in the bathroom and cries, miserably. He screams his anger into existence as he backs himself into the wall and wails, his hands finding their way to wipe at his red-rimmed eyes like the tears were ever going to stop. He flips it all over, fucks it off to shit-- the mixed signals, the thought that he'd say fucking yes to anything, and the overall fact that Jeno was never going to look at him in the way he wanted him to, not even if they happened to be the last two people on Earth.

He splashes his face with cold water by the sink, three minutes later, and wipes the stray remains of his misery with a used tissue he found stuffed in his backpockets. He can't stop looking at himself and thinking he's fucking ridiculous, for thinking the universe would even have the audacity to be kind to him, just for this once, just before he explodes into bits like the rest of humanity. He figures that's the kindest the universe was ever going to be to him-- letting him die before what else was going to happen in the future could kill him.

Because he didn't want to go back to the car and face Jeno so soon, he makes an impulsive turn for the roadside convenience store. Everyone (or, at least just the two guys who were out in the store in the middle of nowhere this late at night) was staring at him with masked worry-- Jaemin must've looked like shit, and he grabs a basket, tosses down three cans of sour cream Pringles, a handful of Crunch bars, gummy worms, and two bottles of cheap alcohol just to prove exactly that, and more. He didn't just look like shit-- he felt like it, too. By the time he was walking to the counter, everyone had looked away.

"You legal?" The cashier worker asks him after inspecting the bottles of alcohol, running them through the scanner nonetheless.

"Yes-- no, I probably don't look like I am. Well, shit, I don't have my card," he sniffs, looks up. "Do you care?"

"Nah, man." He shakes his head. "You probably need the booze anyway."

"Are you violating some code of convenience store ethics by letting me get away with this?"

He shakes his head one more time, and then shrugs reassuringly. "It's New Year's Eve. I got this."

Jaemin pays, offers his thanks to the worker and gets out of the store on a whim. Immediately, he digs through his paper bag for the Pringles, opens the cap, tears the paper and grabs for a bite; if he was going to let anything devour him tonight, it would only be his hunger, no matter how ravenous or miserable he would look like in the process.

He spots Jeno from a meter far, shoulders stiff while he leans against the side of the car and fiddles with his thumbs nervously. Jeno's eyes shoot wide when he looks up, softening at the sight of Jaemin, relieved.

Jaemin walks over and tilts his head worriedly, holds up his paper bag from the tips of his sweater paws. "What?"

"Nothing." Jeno says, softly-- like it wasn't _nothing._ "Can you come closer?"

He hesitates, for a moment, but tiptoes closer anyway. Suddenly, Jeno's hands are back on his waist, bolted in like magnets, and his face seems closer than it's ever been before. He looks around, shyly and protectively, before looking back at Jaemin and swallowing down an audible gulp that makes Jaemin blush and realize, _oh, that's what's happening right now._

Jeno leans in, kisses him on the lips once, softly, testing the waters. He pulls back and gives Jaemin another look-- the kind where his lips are pinched like he's trying to be calm about this, even when his heart was practically beating out of his chest. He stares at Jaemin's lips again, slick and parted, and pulls him in for another kiss, licking past his lips in gentle swipes that make Jaemin sigh like he'd been swept off his own feet. The paper bag crinkles between their chests as they kiss, the contents rustling around and snapping-- and Jaemin can't believe this is what's happening, but it is, and _oh God,_ the guy in the convenience store must be cheering him on and having the time of his life right now-- but not as much as Jaemin was. He was gone-- so fucking gone he felt like his guardian angel was going to strap him by a dangling rope off its wings and just take him away.

Jeno somehow manages to pull the backseat's door open while he keeps himself busy, the notch clicking open and making Jaemin flinch. Jeno pulls back slightly, whispers against Jaemin's lips, "Stay with me tonight," before crouching halfway on his knees and tugging Jaemin down with him so that they land plush against the leathery cushions of the backseat with a moan.

Jaemin nods, tears in his eyes as he leans back in, his hands landing on Jeno's chest and his lips chasing after Jeno's a little greedily. Jeno chuckles into the kiss, his mouth curved into the chapped skin of Jaemin's bottom lip. He's in awe at how well they fill the empty spaces, how amusing it is that they _just fit._ He pushes the thought of this against Jeno's willing mouth, feels everything fall into place.

Jaemin suddenly pulls back to stare at Jeno, blushing at their proximity. He says, "It can't be that easy for you."

"But it's not." Jeno mutters, shaking his head. "I've angsted over this."

"Really?" Jaemin smiles, fumbling close so that they were now side-to-side, face-to-face, Jeno's hands back on his hips again.

"I didn't-- you know, believe that shit." Jeno starts, his face impossibly close. "But it scared me, for some reason." Jaemin looks up, as if to ask, _why?_ But Jeno doesn't need to look back at him to know he owes Jaemin an explanation. "I had you near, I always have. I wanted to kiss you-- and I didn't have to wait for-- e-everything to end. I just-- I could've done something."

"I could have, too." Jaemin says, and he was crying again, not because it was his last day alive and he knew he could've been as good as dust by the next morning, but because it was his last day alive and this was just happening now, of all times, when it could've happened so long ago, when he could've done something. "What if it's all over tomorrow?" He asks, admittedly terrified now that he knew there _was_ something to lose.

"Fuck the universe, then-- at least I've lived a little." Jeno beams, but it's sad. He kisses Jaemin everywhere, laughing heartily. "God-- you taste like Pringles. You're beautiful. I fucking love you, okay?"

"Well," He dithers, shaking. "Is it because you don't think you'll wake up and I'll be there? Because the world's over?"

"Yeah." Jeno nods, his eyes shifting close. "I love you-- I think, the world's over because I do."

"That doesn't make any sense." He blurts out, even though it does.

Jeno only cranes his neck back, his lips moving against the nook between Jaemin's neck and shoulder. "I know."

He nudges Jeno's left cheek, smiles. "I love you, too." Then, he jokingly but _sincerely_ adds, "You and your-- um, Crocs."

"I know." Jeno hums. "Can you tell me that again when we're finally in heaven or something?"

He laughs, thinking of doing something dramatic or festive in the midst of their life-threatening New Year's Eve, like singing a song or getting down on his knees; instead they stay like that for a long time, knees stretched on top of one another in the backseat of the car as they hold on, a little too tight.

If Jaemin dies or wakes up squished between scrawny arms, to the smell of boyish sweat and cheap dollar store cologne, to his face pressed against warm, patchy skin that conceals the heavy patters of a heart that beats for him, and finds out that nothing in the universe is ever going to be the same, he wouldn't mind. He kisses Jeno again, says "I love you," for the last time that night, because if this wasn't already heaven, he didn't know what was. He knew he could die, right then, in those same arms. After all, he's exactly where he wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> i intended to make this a drabble of like, 1k words-- just a quick fic to welcome the new year on my own eccentric, nostalgic terms, but i seem incapacitated to stay within my word limit so i guess?? 5k words?? yay??? also if anyone is wondering if the world actually did end the next day, much like in reality it probably didnt. im a good person lmao, they deserve to live their lives a little longer.
> 
> yall can find me on my twt @RETROJENS and my cc @R3TR0S, and also please do leave kudos and feedback :333 here's an advanced happy new year greeting! i love u all


End file.
